The first chapter of Tyra Banks' much-anticipated writing debut has hit the net, and, well, it's pretty much exactly as-advertised. Banks had hyped the Young Adult series as a mix of the life of a model and the Harry Potter series, and from what we can garner from the sample selection at Barnes & Noble, her description sounds about right. In fact, the text reads so much like Tyra Banks speaks, it's almost impossible not to her her voice as you read along.

Scores of girls marched down their own stretches of the square, paused, posed for the cameras (real and imaginary), and then turned around. Trains of walking girls intersected with others. One area behind Tookie was so crammed with street vendors, it bottlenecked into a slow, shuffling line. Some walkers had only enough space to take a few steps before they had to stop and turn. Tookie's heart went out to a young girl in a ruffled pink dress who seemed way below the unofficial thirteen-year-old age requirement. She marched in place as if she were on a drill team.

Riiiip. A girl stepped on the train of a walker a few feet from Tookie and tore the fabric right off the dress. Both girls fell forward into a heap. The walkers behind them stepped over their bodies and continued.

Crash. The De La Crème white and cream blow-up tent went down as two brawling girls entered it. Oof. A girl who looked as if she had never walked in heels before stumbled, breaking the tips of both stilettos. Two girls got into a fight at the end of their makeshift catwalk, rolling to the ground. "Kenya, use the Gyaku Zuki move!" her mother screamed. "Reverse-punch the hairy hag! But watch your hair, sweetie!"

Tookie wheeled around. The hairy hag was Abigail Goode, sideburns in full glory, faint mustache above her upper lip, unshaven leg hair coating her calves, underarm hair swaying in the wind, and a DOWN WITH RAZORS! picket sign still in her hands. The girl she was fighting with tried out a karate move on her, but Abigail expertly evaded her blow.

Tookie's jealousy meter skyrocketed. Even Abigail was competing? She looked around some more. Actually, not only were eligible girls walking, but lots of other people were too. An elderly man on a power scooter shot a gap- toothed smile to the crowd as he steered his vehicle with his hands on his hips. Two down- on-their-luck women dressed in trash-bag dresses and beat-up sweat suits walked while pushing everything they owned in shopping carts, heckling every girl who passed. "Honey, you wish you had it like I do."

With no real knowledge of the story's premise or who any of the characters are, we can only hope that "smizing" will be an integral part of the plot.